


Whenever You're Ready

by SKinsey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dominance, Eavesdropping, Exhibitionism, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKinsey/pseuds/SKinsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cormac hears about all of the blokes Lily Luna's been shagging. It's hard not to living right underneath her. What's even harder is listening to it knowing none of those guys are good enough for her. He's the only one who can do it right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whenever You're Ready

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightofdaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightofdaye/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [lightofdaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightofdaye/pseuds/lightofdaye) in the [NextGen_Summer_Heat](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/NextGen_Summer_Heat) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> No man is in Lily Luna's league. That's why Cormac likes fucking her up against the window, so everyone can see what only he can have.
> 
> Okay, this is the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Hope I did okay, hope you like it

Cormac had only been living in his new flat for two days when he first heard her. It was two a.m. on a Friday night and he was finishing off his whiskey before getting into bed when he heard the bang of a door the floor above him. This was followed by giggling, the sharp sound of stilettos on hardwood floors, and the deep rumble of a male voice.  


He raised an eyebrow and looked up at his own ceiling. He'd yet to meet his upstairs neighbour, nor had he heard any sounds of inhabitance until then. 

There were two distinct thuds and the click clack of the shoes was gone. Shortly after he could hear bed springs squeaking directly above his own. Grunts, groans, a surprised squeal. But it didn't last very long. 

Things went quiet. He went to sleep. 

 

He felt he had gotten to know his upstairs neighbour quite well over the last month. Intimately, one might say. 

Every Friday night she had company. And if not Friday, then most definitely Saturday. Somebody to make the bed springs squeak. 

His favourite nights, however, were the others. 

The Monday, or Wednesday, or Thursday nights that he'd hear those heels kick off early. When he could hear her go into her bedroom shortly after dinner. When he could hear the quiet once she got comfortable. The nights when he heard her moan. 

And on those nights, there were no bouncing bed springs. There was only one set of footsteps. It was just her, and whatever she used to truly get herself off. 

Those were the nights Cormac lay in bed, got hard listening to her, and then got off hearing that shattered little cry she gave before going quiet. 

What he would do to her if he was there with her. He'd tell her to keep those heels on at all times, take her everywhere but on those fucking springs, and make her cry out over and over and over again. Not like the horny boys she seemed to take to bed every weekend. No, he'd do it right, and oh so wrong. 

It wasn't until three months after moving in that he finally saw her. Going up the stairs one day, he heard the familiar sound of her footsteps just ahead of him, those heels clicking on the stone tiles. 

He caught up to her on the landing. "I don't believe we've met," he said. "I'm Cormac."

She turned. "So you're Mr. McLaggen," she said. Her voice was like honey, smooth, sweet. "I'm Lily Luna."

"Potter," he finished, recognising her now. She popped up in the papers every so often. Harry Potter's little girl. Bright brown eyes. Striking red hair. Growing up, she'd been the wizarding world's little sweetheart. 

"Potter," she confirmed. "So, how are you enjoying your new flat?"

His eyes skimmed down her slight curves, her sheer white blouse, fitted pencil skirt, travelled down her tan long legs, right down to her strappy black heels. "It's comfortable," he replied. 

She smiled. "I was wondering when you'd come find me." She continued up the stairs, hips swaying and red waves swishing across her lower back. 

He followed her. "Oh yeah?" 

"Well, I've been told I add a certain charm to 5C," she said over her shoulder. "And I rather like living in 5D myself."

She reached her door and put the key in the lock. "Want to come in for a drink?" she asked. 

He smirked. "I don't think that's a good idea. It was nice meeting you, Lily Luna."

"Why not? I'm twenty-one," she said, just as he was turning to leave. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

He laughed. "It's not your age, love." Her eyebrows raised expectantly. "From what I've heard," he went on, "you're not my type."

"What type would that be?"

"I like a good girl."

"I can be good." He crossed his arms. "Try me," she challenged. 

"Why don't you come see me when you're done playing with the schoolboys," he said. "I wouldn't want to ruin you too soon."

She leaned into the doorframe, swept her hair back from her face. "That's awfully cocky."

His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Just let me know when you're ready, sweetheart." His green eyes glinted. "Then you're mine."

 

She lasted three days before her curiosity got the better of her. Three nights before those heels click-clacked their way to his door. He was in the middle of dinner when she knocked. 

"Well, Mr. McLaggen. I'm ready." She was dressed in a little black skirt, a silk red camisole, and four inch black stilettos. He was still taller than her. 

He gave a nod. "You got a safe-word?" he asked. 

She looked taken aback. "I don't need one."

"You do when you're with me." He stood firm. "Pick one."

"Red."

He reached out and twirled the ends of her ponytail around his fingers. "Red it is." He stepped aside to let her in. "Strip down to your knickers. Let your hair down. Keep the heels." He shut the door and returned to the small round table where his dinner waited. 

He sat down and picked up his silverware. 

"What?" Lily stared incredulously, standing in front of the bed. 

He raised an eyebrow. "Were the orders unclear?" He took a slow sip of his wine. 

"N-no," she said. "Not at all."

She pulled the elastic from her hair, crossed her arms, and peeled off her camisole; she wasn't wearing anything underneath. She paused, realising the only light in flat was the lamp on beside the couch, and the sunset glowing through the tall glass windows taking up half a wall. 

"What's the matter?"

"The curtains," she said. "Shall I close them?"

He shook his head no. "Lily," he placed his fork on his plate, "are you sure you want to be here?"

Her jaw set. "Yes, I'm sure." She lowered the zip on her skirt. 

He smiled. "Then drop the fucking skirt and take a seat." He kicked out the chair across from him, and it skidded out just a few feet from where she stood. 

She stepped out of her skirt and strode over to sit. 

He was impressed. She'd yet to try and cover herself in any way, though she sat with her knees only slightly apart, her hands hung at her sides. 

"Touch yourself."

She sucked in a short breath. His eyes were on his plate. "Go on then," he said. "I know you know how."

She leaned back in the chair. "Where should I start?"

He gave a small smile around his last bite of food before pushing his plate aside. "Start with those pretty little nipples."

Her hands came up to massage her breasts, thumbs flicking over the taut pink peaks. Her eyes fell closed. 

"Feels good?" His voice was low, a deep baritone, her stomach flipped. 

"Mhm." She nodded. 

"What was that?"

"Yes," she corrected. "Feels so good." Her right hand slid down to her thighs.

She managed to just brush the lacy white band of her knickers. "Not yet," he ordered. "Wait." 

"Please—"

"Not yet," he said again. "Spread your legs. Wide open. Let me see how wet you are."

Her knees splayed wide at his demand. He could see the damp spot between her legs. "So soon. Good girl."

"Please," she breathed. 

Cormac tipped his wine glass back, pouring the last of it down his throat. "Fine," he told her. "Through your knickers only."

She nodded, immediately rubbing herself through the front of the lace, soft moans falling from her lips. 

"You like this?" he asked. "You like me telling you what you do?"

Lily nodded. "Yes. I love it."

He smirked, standing from his seat and making his way around the table. "You are a little slut," he said, as though her response had simply confirmed his suspicions. "You've been teasing me for months now." He stopped just in front of her chair. "Your turn now."

He grabbed her wrists just as she began to pant towards climax. Her eyes flew open. 

He draped her arms back behind the chair, her chest thrust forward. "Ask me nicely," he whispered. 

"Please," Lily begged, hips shifting in her seat without friction. "Please let me come. Please make me come."

He leaned over her, licked a stripe up the centre of her chest before dragging his teeth over her nipple. He traced light circles over her clit, just enough to keep her there, but not nearly enough to push her over the edge. His breath was warm and sweet with wine over the shell of her ear. "You'll have to do better than that, sweetheart."

Lily tilted her head and caught his lips, kissing him with hunger and lust. "I want you to fuck me," she breathed. "Will you please fuck me?"

He laughed. "Soon enough, love." He got to his knees. "But first," he licked his lips, "I want dessert."

Her eyes went wide as he gripped her knickers and ripped them open to just a scrap of lace on the floor. Then he was pushing her thighs wide open and pulling her to the edge of the chair. 

She smelled musky, with just a hint of sweetness. He leaned in to sample a taste and hummed. She moaned. 

He set her legs over his shoulders before going in again, his tongue drawing straight through her folds only to flick over her clit. Her thighs tensed, tried to pull him closer. 

Cormac grazed her oversensitive nerves with his teeth, and she cried out. 

He could barely make out her mutters above him except for the occasional 'fuck' and 'please'. She'd rolled her shoulders forward, freeing her arms so she could bury her fingers in his hair while he buried his fingers in her quim. 

He felt her shudder, heels digging into his back, her muscles like a vice around his digits, and then pulsing as she released that familiar, shattered cry. Her whole body went lax. 

He lowered her legs and got to his feet, tilted her chair back and kissed her hard. 

Her eyes stayed trained on him as he undressed before her. His fingers were unhurried as he undid his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest and defined ridges of his torso. He tossed the shirt to the bed, made short work of his trousers. 

He watched her brown eyes widen at the sight of his pants. Or rather, what was in his pants. 

"On your knees," he told her. 

Lily dropped down, looking up at him, awaiting further instruction. He nodded and she released him from his shorts. 

He was hard and hot and big in her hand as she stroked him. "Open up," he ordered. 

She did so obediently, licking her lips and moving forward for his cock. Cormac slid his hands into her hair, holding her in place, and slid his cock into her mouth. 

His hips pumped languidly for a moment; he let out a low groan. "That's it," he said, his head dropped back. "Good girl. Just like that. Take it deep."

He thrust forward and bumped the back of her throat. She looked up with wide, panicked eyes and pushed at his hips. 

He pulled back. "Red?"

She caught her breath, cheeks hot with embarrassment. "No," she admitted, "I've just never..." She shook her head. "Again. I want to try again."

He nodded. She took the head between her lips again. "Relax your throat," he instructed. "Breathe through your nose."

He thrust in and out of the wet warmth of her mouth, a little more each time. Her lips stretched around him as she sucked. When he tightened his hold in her hair, she did as he'd said and tried to relax her throat, focused on breathing through her nose. 

She managed to take him nearly to the hilt, hollowed her cheeks. 

"Fuck," he expelled. "Sweet, fuck, that's enough." He stepped back from her. 

"Now?" Lily asked hopefully. 

"Now I get to take that sweet pussy." 

She looked toward the bed, and he laughed. "Not a chance, sweetheart." He nodded in the other direction. "Hands on the glass, arse out." When she didn't move, he added, "Now."

Lily walked over and placed her palms on the cool pane, stood with her feet shoulder length apart. He came up behind her, traced the curve of her ass, and then raised a hand and gave her one good smack. 

She yelped in surprise. The sting faded fast, leaving a warm tingling she didn't mind at all. 

"What do you want?" he demanded. 

"I want you to fuck me."

His cock slid back and forth, slicked by her wetness, infuriatingly slow. "Tell me how you want it."

"Hard," she gasped. "Rough. Just like I deserve."

He wrapped a hand in her soft long hair and pulled, forcing her to look out the window across the way to the next building. All the windows, glimpses into other people's lives. Tellies flickering in dark living rooms, couples sitting down to dinner, a man with a cigarette out on a terrace. 

"I bet you want them to see you," he taunted, lining himself up with her. "You want them to look over here, see me giving it to you like the slut you are."

She whimpered, trying to press herself back on him. 

Cormac leaned over her. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll never want another boy ever again. No other man is ever going to get to have you like this."

"No one else but you," she breathed. "Please."

He thrust forward, just the tip. "Go on," he whispered. "Show them what a good girl you are for me. Fuck yourself back on my cock."

She nodded desperately, pushing back, easing him into her. 

"Fucking hell, you're tight." He groaned. "You really have been fucking schoolboys, haven't you?"

Lily moaned, bracing her hands on the window, finally taking as much as she could. "So big," she babbled, "never felt so full."

"Yeah?" He pumped in and out of her slowly. "You like being stuffed with my prick. You need a big cock to fill you up."

"Only yours," she panted. "Only yours."

He began to thrust faster, harder, squeezed a handful of her breasts and pinned her up against the glass, rutting into her over and over and over again. 

"Ah," she cried. "Yes, yes, fuck." Her second orgasm swept over her unexpectedly, she shook, Cormac didn't slow for a second. 

They both spotted the man with the cigarette then, cig gone, fly open, wanking at the sight of them pressed against the window. 

"Oh shit," Lily said. "He's watching."

Cormac reached around, deftly found her clit and pinched. She screamed, already hypersensitive after coming twice, but found herself even wetter. 

"Look at that," Cormac teased. "Little Miss Potter putting on a show. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like this. You like that he's seeing you, seeing what he'll never have."

She was breathless, exhausted, and now quickly chasing a third orgasm. 

"Watch him. Watch him while he gets off to you like this. Watch him, and come for me, Lily." He rubbed her clit and thrust almost uncontrollably now, pushing her almost flat to the glass. "Come," he ground out. And she did. Just as he let loose inside her as well. 

The man on the terrace was forgotten, as Cormac allowed Lily to lean back against him before scooping her up and laying her on the bed. He cleaned her up with a simple spell, kissed her neck as he crawled up to her. "Alright?" he asked. 

"Mhm." She sat up, swung her feet to the side of the bed. 

Cormac touched her shoulder to stop her. "Sleep here," he said. 

She didn't protest, just lay back down and pulled the sheet up to her chest. 

He gave a small smile, and shut the drapes.


End file.
